


Let It Snow!

by TheIntelligentHufflepuff



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Love Confessions, M/M, of a sort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 22:46:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5473340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIntelligentHufflepuff/pseuds/TheIntelligentHufflepuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a mission for the now freestanding Avengers, Steve and a mostly-recovered Bucky find themselves stranded in a freezing cave somewhere deep in the alps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let It Snow!

**Author's Note:**

> A Christmas-present one shot for a friend (without much Christmas involved).

The cold is insidious, biting and clawing through Bucky's flesh right to the human bone. It’s worse than going in to Chyrosleep, because at least that stopped.   
"We're stuck, Buck." Steve points out unnecessarily. Particles of ice and snow are collecting on his fresh beard, the only part of his face visible under the combat thermals they both ware.   
"I know." Bucky grinds out, eyes restlessly scanning the valley beyond their small cavern. An endless torrent of thick snow obscures his vision; harsh wind buffets the almost sheer mountain side.   
His hands itch for the comforting barrel of his rifle.   
"We'll leave as soon as the storm dies down." Steve dictates. He’s in charge of both their mission- rescuing a nuclear physicist kidnapped by a terrorist cell- and the new, freestanding Avengers. At first, Bucky had been reluctant to join, but he soon found that he was nothing without a fight. Not anymore.   
"Roger that, Rogers." 

Two hours later, the storm hasn’t let up. Steve and Bucky have retreated to the very back of the cave, knees curled up to their chests in a futile attempt to retain warmth. Bucky’s fiddling with their comms, trying to establish a channel between them and the safe house fifty miles away. He’s failing miserably.   
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Steve draw two sticks of emergency rations from the pocket of his trousers. He opens one, holding the other out for Bucky to take.   
"You need calories."  
"Soon."   
"Now."  
Bucky growls, throwing the comms device against the rock in a fit of sudden anger. He can’t see Steve's face, but if he could he would guess it showed disappointment.   
"Bucky."  
He sighs, leaning his head against the rock he’s been trying not to rest on too much.   
"I'm sorry." He means it.   
"I know. Now eat."   
The rations are too sweet, but he forces them down. 

Half an hour passes until Steve speaks again.  
"Is it strange this is making me nostalgic?"   
Bucky’s inclined to reply that yes it is, very. But he doesn’t. Instead he asks "Why?"   
"We spent a lotta time freezing our asses off in Brooklyn."   
Bucky nods noncommittally. It’s often...uncomfortable hearing people talk about things he did but can't remember. At least with Steve, it's usually happy things. Things that make the blonde’s eyes light up and his face take on an ethereal quality quite apart from his Adonis body.  
"I don't see how that's pleasant."   
Steve huffs, then hums thoughtfully "Neither do I, actually. I guess it was just...nice to have the company."  
Bucky’s getting confused, but he fights the anger that has so often accompanied the feeling since Hydra.   
"Company?"  
He's fairly sure Steve blushes as he replies "We only had one blanket and it was too cold to go without, so..."  
"Ah." Bucky says eloquently after a beat. The syllable comes out strangled, warped by the ghost of pleasure that blooms across his chest at Steve's words.   
Steve notices, of course, taking a sip from his canteen before shuffling across the ice cold stone to press himself flush to Bucky's side.   
"What's the matter?"  
Bucky doesn't know how to answer. How can he say that Steve's proximity has doubled the pace of his pulse, and that his voice is capable of easing his pain like no drug known to man? That this has been happening ever since the Soldier became Bucky again?   
"'Dunno, punk." 

They both run high temperatures, but even their shared heat can't combat the alpine climate. Steve starts to shiver. The sight of it stirs something buried deep inside Bucky, a long-dormant instinct to protect instead of harm.   
He slides his rucksack off his back, dumping it on Steve's lap "Sit on that."   
Steve turns quizzical eyes on him.   
Once, Bucky realises, he may have had an appropriate response. Instead, he just glowers at Steve until he obeys. 

Night falls quickly at their altitude. The blizzard has stopped, which would've been good had it not been replaced with driving rain. Both men agree that descending under those conditions should only be attempted if their enemies uncover their position.   
"We should sleep." Steve decides "I'll take first watch."  
Bucky bristles. Despite the fact that the man's a superhero, the thought of leaving Steve alone and vulnerable rubs him the wrong way.   
"Bucky. Sleep." Steve repeats, except this time his words hold the ring of an order.   
Pushing aside his misgivings, Bucky tips back his head and wills his body to rest.   
As his world fades to non-existence, Steve adds "I'll wake you in two hours." 

That he does. Bucky comes to in a haze of confusion, blindly grabbing for his gun before the realisation dawns that he is as safe as he's going to be in this situation. And that he's pretty much sprawled on top of Steve, cradled in his arms.  
Bucky hurriedly extracts himself, hoping the dark hides his flush.   
Steve chuckles quietly before stretching his legs and rolling over in to a more comfortable position. Minutes later, his breathing evens out in to the hallmark rhythm of a deep sleep. Quietly, Bucky settles down near his head and wills himself to focus on their surroundings and not the moonlight dusting Steve's eyelids.  
He fails.   
The problem is, Steve makes him feel things. And not the twisted things that infest his mind at night, or the grim comradery he has established with Natalia or Sam Wilson. Steve makes him feel good. Light and peaceful, comfortable and nervous all at once. Steve makes him feel human. At first, Bucky blamed it on some convoluted sense of gratitude- Captain Rogers had, after all, pursued his sanity with dogged determination- but now…now Bucky has spent months living in close proximity to a plethora of wonderful friends who all helped him in their own way and he knows deep within him that what he feels for Steve is more.   
Suddenly, Steve’s hand twitches and he tenses, muscles coiled. Bucky jerks from his reverie, metal hand coiling around the Beretta at his hip. A second later, he realises that Steve is still asleep. There is no threat, just a nightmare.   
Unfortunately, Bucky knows intimately how much of a threat they can be. Tentatively, Bucky reaches out towards Steve, hand suspended in mid-air. He may be making a grave mistake. Then Steve twitches again and Bucky- as he always does when Steve’s in trouble- throws caution to the wind, wrapping his flesh hand securely around Steve’s. Even though he remains unconscious, a thrill shoots through Bucky’s blood.   
“You’re alright, Stevie.” He whispers, feeling bold enough to rub soothing circles in Steve’s palm “I’ve got ya. I’ve got ya.”   
Bucky nearly has a heart attack when Steve squeezes his hand gently, replying in the lazy way of a man half dreaming “I know. ‘Love you.” 

Bucky’s still grinning when dawn finally breaks and, at last, they’re free to carry on.


End file.
